Chapter Twenty Nine

A/N: No reviewers.

Weeks went by with only whispers to quench the flames of curiosity burning in Merida's gut. All of her letters to the Weasleys went unanswered, her desperate attempts to squeeze any information out of her mother proving fruitless. Even here, a few short miles from Hogwarts, she had never felt more isolated from the world.

By the time Minerva arrived home that night, long after the sun had set, like always, Merida had given up trying. Every time she asked for the slightest piece of information, her mother would simply walk away, setting the kettle on to boil in the kitchen or going to fetch blankets for her daughter's room. It was an intricately practiced routine, one that she had never yet broken with. And that night, Merida finally assumed that she never would.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Mum?" she called, as the witch in the doorway began to remove their hat and cloak. Given that it would be Minerva's first step to head for the kitchen, she thought she might as well do so first.

"I'd love one." came the answer, but it was not her mother's voice. This tone was softer, more musical, and with a hint of a foreign accent that suited her well, though it did not sit quite right with her Scottish lilt. The hair beneath her hat was a deep chestnut, with no hint of the silver that streaked her mother's, and the figure beneath the cloak was lithe and supple. It was not Minerva McGonagall at all, and yet Merida could not have been any more pleased to see her.

"Vevi!" she exclaimed, leaping at the woman and throwing her arms around her neck, holding her so tightly it must have almost hurt. It was a mirror image of the time just before Christmas, the last time in which they had been reunited. So much had changed in those few short months.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" the woman cried in response. "I was worried you might not be here. You never know in war, people disappear and reappear without a moment's warning."

"Not me." Merida sighed, trying and failing to conceal her frustration on the matter. "Mum hasn't let me out of the door since September. She says it's too dangerous with Hogwarts just across the hill. The Death Eaters are everywhere now."

"She's just trying to keep you safe." Vevina reasoned, settling down in one of the chairs by the fire, whilst Merida sat quickly in the other. There was something in her tone that caught her cousin's attention. It was almost as if Vevina knew something she did not.

She did not have the chance to question the girl, though, for the door swung open again. This time, it was Professor McGonagall who entered, stopping in her tracks once she realised her daughter was not alone. Of all the emotions that flashed across her face when she saw Vevina, shock was not one of them.

"Mum, did you know Vevi was coming?" Merida asked, when the door was barely closed. She did not mean it to sound quite as accusatory as it did.

Minerva gulped, seeming a little cowed by her daughter's sudden speech. Reluctantly, she nodded. "I asked her to come as soon as she could. How are you, Vevi?"

"I'm well." the young woman answered, clearly nervous at the tension between her aunt and cousin. After all, she was about to make it a good deal worse. "The Dark Lord has no interest in France, not yet. All we can do is watch for any news and hope it stays that way."

"It will." Minerva assured her. Finally, she turned to her daughter, looking the girl in the face but not quite meeting her eye. "That's why it is the safest place for you, Meri."

Merida looked up through her sheet of auburn curls, her mouth half-open in disbelief. "Mum, what are you talking about?"

"That's why Vevina is here." the professor elaborated, her voice the strong and commanding tone she would more often use to control her classroom. "With the Dark Lord on the rise, nowhere in the country is safe. I cannot be here with you much of the time, not if I still have my role to fulfil at Hogwarts, and anyone else I would trust with your life is being hunted themselves. This is the only option."

"It's not!" Merida fought back, as her mother knew she would. "Let me join the fight! I'm capable with Defence Against the Dark Arts and with Charms, and I know more about Transfiguration than most people in the country thanks to you! There must be something I could do to help!"

"Merida, you are sixteen years old." Minerva reminded the girl, who seemed a little disheartened at the reminder of her own youth. She knew exactly what her mother was trying to say; the choice was not hers to make. "Even if I were willing to let you fight, you are too young to be of any real use to the Order of the Phoenix."

"How can you say that," the girl scoffed. "When the boy at the head of the army is only a year older? When his friends and supporters are only a year older, if even older at all? What about Ginny? She is at Hogwarts right now, probably devising a plan for how to help them right under the Death Eaters' noses, and yet I'm not allowed to do anything when I'm miles out of their reach?!"

"Merida, none of those people want to fight!" Minerva exclaimed in return, her patience finally beginning to wear thin. "I'm sure that if you gave them the choice to have older, more experienced wizards and witches leading in their place, they would take it in a heartbeat. But they do not have that choice, and so they have to make the best of an awful situation. You, on the other hand, do."

"You'll be safe in France, Meri, and you'll be with me." Vevina piped up, having been watching the exchange in a kind of awed silence from the sidelines. Of course, she had seen her aunt and cousin argue a thousand times, both of them being very strong-willed. She had never imagined she would see their love for each other split them apart.

Furiously wiping the back of her hand across her eyes to catch any tears before they fell, Merida nodded curtly. "Fine. If I don't have a choice, then I'll go and pack my things. I wouldn't want to stay any longer anyway, if I'm valued enough to be given a chance."

The slamming door echoed through the tiny house, rattling the picture frames on the mantelpiece and almost bringing one crashing down to the floor. It was a very old picture, more than a decade, and showed a smiling girl sat on a swing, kicking her legs as if she wished she could take flight.

Long after Merida was gone, Minerva sat staring at that picture, wondering what had happened to that sweet little girl. The answer, of course, she already knew, for it was the same that had happened to all the children she had known over the years, however quick or slow the process had been and whatever circumstances had forced the hands of the clock. It was the simplest answer in the world, and yet the one a parent never quite wanted to hear.

Merida grew up.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, guys! I know Minerva was very behind the war effort, especially at Hogwarts, but if there was this kind of chance to get her daughter out of the country, I think most people would take it in a heartbeat. Please review!